


Then, He Changed

by awfuldaycupcake



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, No Dialogue, a little vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 15:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4268337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awfuldaycupcake/pseuds/awfuldaycupcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A summary of Castiel's life. Or rather, the part involving Dean Winchester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Then, He Changed

Castiel had always been the most obedient angel of the garrison. He always listened to the anonymous rules he was given immediately after he received them. Rules were rules- they rarely ever bent for anyone. Castiel believed that the word of god was good, that everything had a destiny and a plan.

Then, he changed.

Castiel was assigned to rescue the righteous man from the depths of hell at exactly 6:22 PM on September 18, 2008. He didn’t know it then, but this date would be a date he’d remember for the rest of his infinite existence. Some of the angels never forgot the day that god made the humans. Some of them never forgot the day that Lucifer fell from the pristine gates of heaven to the dark, swamping pits of hell. Castiel, despite all this, chose only to remember the day Dean Winchester was saved.

It took a lot of power to reach hell. but Castiel, at the time, was certain that he would succeed. Never would his god send him on a mission he wouldn't succeed! The idea was preposterous. Castiel fluffed his white, downy wings, looking down at his next erron. Castiel thought he’d be able to swan dive down, grab the man so talked about in his home, and fly out with ease.

Then, he changed.

As Castiel plummeted into Lucifer’s palace, the first thing he noticed was the souls. Dirty, black stained souls screamed for redemption, and fires were lit around every corner. A young black haired woman screeched. An older crippled man howled. Castiel became more and more overwhelmed the deeper he got, the souls affecting even his level of indifference. His once white wings were now coated with dark, black soot that didn’t seem to be falling off. He went down and down and down, not seeing a single pure man, until he saw a light. A blinding light in the corner of his eye drew his immediate attention. It was the righteous man.

Castiel reached towards the wounded man, burning from forty years of undeserved torture. Castiel latched the palm of his vessel’s hand on to his shoulder as the bright white soul twisted and screamed. The man tried to avoid his grasp, but Castiel had been alive many millenia. He knew how to deal with hand to hand combat quite easily and, if he was being honest with himself, this man wasn’t putting up quite a fight.

As Castiel pulled the whimpering, shell of a man that once was Dean Winchester up to the Earth he once lived on, a small thought occurred to him. “What if this is unimportant, in truth? What if God only wants rid of me?” He pushed the thought away with vigilance and denial, and gripped even tighter to the human in his arms. Thoughts of free will had never passed his mind before. The angel was… confused.

Then, he changed.

Dean Winchester only fully met him in a barn, the evening of his rescue. He had acted on primal instinct and tried to stab Castiel with a demon killing knife, but only after he and his older companion opened fire with multiple pistols. The blade barely scratched his skin, and the bullets did no better. Castiel heartlessly placed his fingers on the older man’s head, and he crumpled to the ground in a heap. Castiel requested to talk to Dean in private, and Dean declined roughly. Castiel was slowly starting to hate the man he fought so hard to protect.

That, of all things, was the biggest part of Castiel to finally change.

Castiel stopped hating Dean at… well, he couldn't remember the date. This was new for Cas. Cas. Castiel had grown accustomed to the nickname, and any mention of his full name was almost always under strict business protocol.

Cas stopped hating Dean at the inexact point between Lilith coming to power and the apocalypse. After a while, he and Dean actually got along quite nicely. In Cas’s own words, they shared a more “Profound Bond.” However, Sam had looked at him strangely after Cas had said the phrase. Cas wasn’t sure exactly what that warning look meant, but he soon found out.

It wasn’t until Cas became insane that he fell in love with Dean.

His mind was putty, so he did what he had to and lead with his heart. That was the main reason that he finally told Dean. Well, I say told. Cas was looking at a small butterfly bush, which happened to be surrounded with bees at the time, when the idea came to him. That night, once Dean had returned from the supermarket, he set his plan into launch.

He sat naked on the Impala, wearing only bees. Dean was not as pleased as Cas would have originally anticipated, nor hoped. Dean had brushed this off as an act of his weak mental state, and Cas went along with it. There was no need to embarrass himself further.

Then, Dean changed.

It was a Thursday, that Cas was sure of. After meeting the Winchesters, Cas stopped counting the days so closely, and began living each day like it was his last. Alas, this was not one of the days he wanted to live. They were in Purgatory. Only a day after Benny and Dean found him, Dean fessed up to some things he’d rather not mention, and one of them was his immense attraction towards the angel. Cas could only respond by looking up at Dean, at the pure soul that he saw only three or four years ago, and smiling. That Thursday was the very first day that Castiel had ever kissed Dean Winchester.

Purgatory didn’t last forever. Dean found the exit, took Benny with him, and threw out his hand to Cas. “Dean! Go!” The angel had screamed, the first time that he had let Dean go without him. Cas needed time in this otherworldly dimension as a penalty for his past sins. Or so, he thought.

That sure as hell changed.

Cas was retrieved from Purgatory. He was brainwashed to the point of almost certain no return, and thrown out into the real world with no intentions but to ‘kill Dean Winchester.’ This assignment was given to him September 8, 2011, and the irony was forever lost on him. He set out after three weeks of training to find Dean and the Angel Tablet, trying with no avail to conquer Naomi inside of his own mind.

Upon seeing Dean, his Dean, the real Dean, he realised the madness of his mission. He couldn’t kill him. Not after saving him, meeting him, loving him. Cas took back over his own mind that night.

The next groundbreaking event in Cas’s life was losing his grace. Trusting Metatron had been a mistake, and Dean had tried to warn him. Of course, he didn’t listen. He regretted that with all his heart. He was now a fallen angel, a human. He was a disgrace to his society. He was now… useless.

Stealing Theo’s grace changed everything. Taking this would make Cas strong again, and make him brave enough to fight alongside the Winchesters! At least, this is what he thought when he was actually taking it. He hadn’t entirely weighed out the consequences. He had less than a year to live.

Dean accepted the Mark of Cain at the hand of Crowley. Neither Sam nor Cas had been there for him, and they should have. They both should have. The Mark was a threat to Dean’s humanity, to the little bit of him that even cared about anything anymore. The little bit of him that even cared about Cas, himself, anymore.

The battle of Metatron was a challenging one for Cas. He fought long and he fought hard. He gave up an entire army to save Dean, and all Dean gave as a thanks was a grunt and a shrug. Cas blamed the Mark quietly, not wanting to think about the alternative idea- that Dean simply stopped loving.

Cas sat in Metatron's office, listening to the rambling man’s old stories. He tuned out a little bit, if he was being honest. The station in his office was broadcasting to the entire angel army, and Cas wouldn’t have to worry any minute now. “ But ultimately, it was all about saving one human, right? Well, guess what. He's dead, too.”

Cas looked up, a worried look etching on to his face. Dean was dead. Cas thought back to the time when he found out Dean’s equivalency of his emotions. To the time he showed up in bees on Dean’s precious car. To the time he first realised that he had grown to know himself as ‘Cas’ instead of his full name. To the time that he met Dean. To the time he pulled him from hell.

Cas felt tears prick at his eyes, as he looked up at Metatron with a broken heart. He reminded himself to stay strong, to lead the angles, to throw this horrible scribe of god into a jail cell where he belonged.

And he did. Cas saved the day in the end. But was it really worth it? Losing Dean? The answer, to him, was obvious. Though he had grown fond of the human race, he would rather have Dean any day. So, as Cas sat alone in the tan car he stole nearly a year ago, he finally broke down. For the first time in his 4.25 billion years of existence, Castiel cried.


End file.
